


Five Times Vax Had His Dick Cut Off

by inthesockdrawer



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Harem, Blood, Body Modification, Castration, Devotion, F/M, Femdom, Harems, Kidnapping, M/M, Other, Pain, Penectomy, Religion, Sex Work, Surgery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 14:39:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14334636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inthesockdrawer/pseuds/inthesockdrawer
Summary: Five alternate takes on points in Vax's life, where he might have undergone serious body modification.Please read the title and the warnings carefully before proceeding.





	Five Times Vax Had His Dick Cut Off

**Author's Note:**

> For a friend. 
> 
> \-------------
> 
> Technically not castration, but AO3 doesn't have a tag for penectomy so better safe than sorry.
> 
> If I have neglected any warnings, let me know and I will add more tags.

1\. 

It starts in class, studying Corellon Larethian. Vax is entranced by the images in the books of the deity. He longs for the perfection illustrated there. The balanced androgyny of the deity’s true form fills Vax’s mind. 

Vax goes to the city’s largest temple. The sneers and sideways glances from the elves for once do not set him on edge. He only has eyes for the statues, the stained glass windows, the murals. Everywhere, Vax sees the deity. Everywhere, Vax sees his dream.

One of the clerics strikes up a conversation with him. Vax stammers and stutters and feels his face go red. It is not shame that colors his cheeks, but he doesn’t know what to call it. He flees as soon as the cleric’s back is turned. 

Vax returns again, and again. The cleric seems to know what Vax wants, before Vax can even speak the words himself. 

“There are rituals we perform here, for the truly devoted.” The cleric smiles benevolently at Vax. “You seek your true form; Corellon Larethian can provide that for you.”

Vax, despite his burning desires, is suspicious. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because I underwent the ritual myself, many years ago.” The cleric shrugs a shoulder. “If that is what you seek, I can assure you, it is not only feasible but quite painless.” 

Vax’s body already aches with the pains from growing older. He has seen his sister’s body beginning to change, and despises the idea of his own body shifting against his will. 

“What must I do?” he asks. 

His father is more than willing to allow Vax to enter the temple as a novice, and pay the fees that a rich man’s child is expected to “donate” when embarking upon such a path. His father is more than willing, because this gets Vax out of his house and into someone else’s keeping. 

The ritual involves much chanting and lighting of candles. Vax twitches with poorly concealed impatience, quieted only after drinking a potion that numbs his body and leaves him lethargic and falling backwards into the prepared pillows behind him. He sees the blade, but not the work it does, nor does he feel the result of what the cleric assures him has been completed. 

Vax drifts into incense-laden sleep, staring up at a mosaic on the ceiling of Corellon Larethian.

When Vax wakes, he wakes in his true form at last. 

 

2.

Their weary feet take them to a port. What Vax has managed to steal buys them beer and a meager meal, but it’s more than they’ve had in days. So eager are they to eat and drink, and so heedless are they of the strength of human alcohol, that Vax and Vex fall prey to the drugs rather quickly. 

They awake on a ship, bound in darkness. 

“Slavers?” Vex whispers, the sharp edge of fear in her voice that she only reveals to him. 

“Maybe,” Vax shudders at the thought. What becomes of twins sold in chains he can imagine. He’s had nightmares of such things. 

A sailor throws open the door and hauls them up onto the deck. There are half a dozen others there, all women. Vax realizes the mistake and feels a pang of fear. 

The Captain strides up and down the deck. She’s a woman with dark hair shaved on the sides. She’s not especially tall, but Vax can tell from the way she carries herself that she’s a fearsome fighter. A first mate follows her, a broad shouldered woman with tightly braided hair. 

“You lucky ladies have been recruited to join the crew of the Siren’s Kiss!” bellows the first mate. “Sign the Accords and you’ll begin your exciting new career!” 

“What if we don’t want to sign?” Vex asks. 

The First Mate gestures to the expanse of open ocean. “We can put you in a skiff; port is six hour’s sail north.”

The Captain, meanwhile, has fixed Vax with a discerning stare. “Jenny, you daft creature, you’ve brought a man onto my ship!” She draws her sword. 

Vex steps in front of Vax. Vax tries to step in front of Vex. The Captain waves her hand and the First Mate and several other sailors separate the twins. 

“Touch him and I’ll kill you!” Vex shrieks, struggling in the First Mate’s arms. “I’ll kill every last one of you! I’ll curse this whole stinking ship!” 

“Please!” Vax faces the fearsome Captain. “Please, we’ve never been separated. You can keep me tied up! I won’t complain, I swear it.”

The Captain takes Vax by the chin, turning his face side to side. “Perhaps we can come to some arrangement. You may sign, but you must give up something to stay on this ship.”

Vax has a deep suspicion, but still he nods. “Anything, to stay with her.”

The Captain grins. “Jenny, fetch the cleric.”

A short while later, the cleric presses a bottle to Vax’s lips. “Drink, lad,” she hisses. “This might kill you. She’s never ordered this done and intended the lad to live especially long afterwards.” The cleric squints at him. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather the skiff? Strong young lad, you’d make it back to port after a day’s rowing.”

Vax shakes his head. He’ll risk anything to stay with Vex. He drinks until his mind grows fuzzy. 

The Captain arrives, stripped of her coat, sleeves rolled up to her elbows. 

“Last chance, lad,” she says, holding aloft a shining knife. 

“Do what you must, Captain.” Vax takes the strip of leather the cleric presses between his teeth. 

The pain, even dulled by alcohol, is such that Vax blacks out after his first scream. 

By the time Vax has recovered, Vex is already adept at racing to the tops of the masts. She seems to fly up the rigging, besting even practiced sailors. Vax sets about catching up to her skills. 

Very often the pair of them are sent to the crow’s nest. Half-elf eyes see farther than most humans, even in the evenings. 

Some refuse to go near Vax, but most treat him as any other crew. Teasing and taunting and hierarchy concerns come and go. 

Vex is beset by suitors vying for her attention. Vax, to his surprise, is also sought after. At first he thinks only to provide pleasure, but his partners in the evening and mid-afternoon lulls teach him ways of find his own pleasure. It’s different than it was before, but no less enjoyable. In fact, he has far more sex now than he ever did ashore. 

“Do you … miss it?” Vex asks one night in the crow’s nest. It’s the only place they can be assured of true privacy. 

“… not really.” Vax shrugs. “It was easier to piss before, but that’s all.”

Vex makes a disgusted face and nudges him in the side. “I’m serious, Vax.”

“So am I! I thought I might miss it more but I … don’t. I’d rather be here with you, than ashore with a cock.” Vax isn’t certain which of them starts the hug, but they embrace for a long time that night. 

Ashore some months later, the Captain takes Vax into a private room above an inn. “Do you hate me, for taking it?” she asks, catching him by the hips. 

“No, Captain.” Vax answers honestly. 

“Do you love me, for taking it?”

Vax ponders this. “I’m not sure, Captain.”

“Well then,” the Captain presses her lips to his neck. “Why don’t you show me what my girls have been teaching you?”

The combination of sealegs and alcohol tumbles them both onto the nearby bed. The combination of pleasure and fatigue keeps them there until morning. 

 

3.

He doesn’t run screaming into the night. 

The man is visibly surprised at that. 

“Well it’d be rude of me to run off after you’d been so honest.” Vax points out, taking a sip of wine to steady himself. 

“It’s not exactly the sort of thing that puts men at ease,” the man says. “I’ve been slapped before, shoved, people have screamed at me, all sorts.”

“Not me.” Vax points out.

“No, not you.” The man considers Vax. “You’re not drunk. Are you brave or stupid?” 

Vax laughs off the insult. He does a lot of that here, for far worse. If the money’s good he’ll let anyone insult him, and the money is especially good with this man. The company too, come to that, which is why Vax hasn’t drifted off to find another customer in several months. The rest of the boys, girls, and others at the club keep their distance from Vax’s regular.

“This is a judgment free zone, you know that by now.” Vax waves a hand around the room. “Tell me more.”

It’s as if a dam has been sprung. The man speaks of his secret, lifelong desire, confessing as if to a priest. 

“I would pay handsomely for the privilege. And draw up a contract to provide you with a stipend for the rest of your life. This would render you rather … particular, for your line of work, after all. I would have to compensate you not just for the single service but for the potential loss of future business by undertaking such an action.”

Vax’s mind whirls. “You’ve thought this out.”

“Meticulously.”

“Would you still … want me, afterwards?” Vax asks, hating himself for how small and weak his voice sounds. 

“Oh, dear one,” the man catches Vax by the chin. “Of course I would. I would lavish attention upon you as before, so long as you allowed me to. I would let you recover of course, but as soon as you were able I would ask you to set aside significant time to allow me to thank you for your … gift.”

Vax thinks about it. The man is offering a lot of money. And a stipend, for several years, would be something to set aside for his future. Vax hasn’t thought a lot about his future but he’s thinking now. He could give the money to Vex, have her keep it safe, so that when he wants to leave he can leave and find a pile of money waiting for him. 

“I’ll think about it.” Vax promises. 

The man smiles weakly, clearly thinking Vax is only being polite. 

Vax isn’t drunk when he undertakes the procedure. He’s sober and his hands are clammy but he isn’t shaking at all. The man signed numerous contracts with him, sent money to Vex already, and has a healer in the next room. 

The man blows him. Vax has never quite gotten used to clients who do that, and he realizes now with a shiver that he’ll never have to after tonight. 

“I’m the last to have you like this,” the man murmurs, gently laying Vax down on the bed and drawing his legs apart. “And I’ll be the first to have you in your new shape.”

The man holds a cup to Vax’s lips and Vax drinks, feeling the chill of a familiar drug coursing through him. He’s had clients who fed him this before, to make him soft and pliable like a doll. He won’t thrash, but he will feel the pain. That’s what the client paid for. 

Vax watches the knife, and is grateful for the drug because even though he agreed to this he panics briefly. His limbs are heavy and the man’s hands are on his thighs and …

Pain. 

Excruciating pain. 

Exquisite pain. 

He can only whimper, the drug having all but numbed his voice. Tears pour down his face. He can feel blood on his thighs and wonders if this is how Vex feels every month. Another thing they share now, in a strange sort of way. 

The man is saying things, praise and excitement, stroking Vax’s hair, calling for the healer.

The man leans down and kisses Vax’s forehead and Vax rides the pain into darkness. 

True to his word, the man does not abandon Vax. After a week of rest and potions from the healer, Vax no longer requires bandages. The man visits him, worships him, thanks him again and again for giving the greatest of gifts. 

Sex is different than before, but to Vax’s surprise no less pleasurable. There are new sensations to be explored. Learning again to please himself, to please another with his body, is strange but exciting too. 

It makes him unique. There are clients who shrink from him now, but new ones fill their places soon enough. Some marvel at him, others do not even comment, merely ask him to do this or that, or to inform them of what feels good. 

Vax had supposed his retirement would have to come sooner. Now it seems he can retire whenever he wishes. 

 

4.

The Queen asks much of him. 

Some might say she asks too much. 

It is not Vax’s place to question her will. She bids him to come and go. She bids him to kill. She bids him to burn forbidden texts. She bids him to drown in blood so that she might see him kneeling at her feet. 

Vax obeys her every whim. He obeys and is glad to do so. He is grateful that the Queen has allowed him to worship her. He is grateful for the life his sister lives. He is grateful for the powers the Queen has bestowed upon him.

He undergoes many rituals to bind himself to her. He kneels, he chants, he spends many sleepless nights beneath trees laden with ravens. 

The last ritual is shrouded in myth. He sleeps beneath a tree and wakes in her realm, before a stone altar. 

Vax can feel her nearby but cannot see her. He approaches the altar, sees the knife glinting, and knows what he must do. 

He lays his cock on the cold stone. He takes up the knife. He does what is expected of him. 

The pain is to be expected, but even bracing for it he staggers. He topples backwards and falls into darkness that feels like feathers, looks up to see her porcelain mask staring down at him. 

Vax wants to speak but cannot find the words. 

She gently lays him down and circles the altar, removing her mask. 

He remembers old stories of ravens drinking blood, to speak with the voices of the dead. 

She leans over and laps at the stone. Her tongue is black. 

When Vax wakes there is no blood, no wound, but there is a distinct lack of a familiar appendage between his legs. 

He gave himself to her utterly, when he first promised himself to her. Such a token now strikes him as unnecessary, but it is not his place to say so. He is honored. He is hers. 

 

5\. 

It starts as a joke.

Well, Vax says it like a joke, to conceal the seriousness of his words. J’mon has been teasing him again about seeming to dislike reciprocation in bed. 

“Nah, I love it when you touch me.” Vax stretches, cat-like, to demonstrate. “Just couldn’t care less about my dick. Not like it’s much use in here anyways. You should chop it off, it’s not like it’s serving your needs.”

Vax laughs. J’mon stares at Vax for a long moment before hesitantly chuckling a bit. 

Vax thinks J’mon must have forgotten his words. But J’mon never forgets anything. They are particularly adept at remembering things that people wish they would forget. 

“I have been thinking about what you said,” J’mon says on one of their nights together. 

“I say a lot of bullshit, you’ll have to be more specific.” Vax grins. 

“About this,” J’mon gestures between Vax’s legs. “About its relative usefulness in my tower.” 

Vax wonders what lies he could tell, what lies would be believed, and realizes that there is nothing. J’mon might as well have flayed him open. 

“I could put it in a pretty cage,” J’mon speculates, twining their fingers around Vax’s shaft. “A pretty cage with a magic lock that only I could open. Would you like that?”

Vax squirms. “I mean, if you’d like it, sure?”

“Be honest with me, Vax’ildan,” J’mon’s tone is stern now. “There are drugs I could feed to you, to keep it soft and limp always. Would you like that?”

Vax gulps. He’s heard tell of such drugs before, but never been brave enough to seek them out himself. They’re often given to criminals of a particular sort, the sort destined for a noose in any case, and the drugs are to keep them weak in prison and humiliate them. “No thank you.”

“I could give you potions to change your body over time, to turn you from male to female, if that is what you wish.” J’mon tilts their head. “Is that what you wish, to be your sister’s twin in all ways?”

Vax shakes his head at that. “No. I don’t want that. I know for certain that’s not what I want.” When he was younger he struggled with that, seeking answers and finding women who were sympathetic, but not the people who could help him with what he needed. “I’m not a woman. I’m myself, and … I just don’t want … this.” He gestures down. 

J’mon seems lost in thought. “Very well. Ask me every night, for a year and a day, and I will grant you this boon.” They press a kiss to Vax’s forehead. “Now, let us converse of other things.”

A year is not so long to J’mon, Vax knows this, but it seems an eternity for him. He begs and pleads and cajoles, all for naught. 

“If you say ‘no’ tonight, that is all I require. We shall speak no more of it.” J’mon says, when a year and a day have passed. 

“No. I want this. I need this. Please.” Vax feels wrung dry from begging. 

“Very well.” J’mon brings forth a bottle and holds it to Vax’s lips. “Drink all of this. Slowly, slowly …” 

Vax’s knees buckle and J’mon catches him, deceptively strong for such a thin frame. J’mon lays Vax out on a bed, gently preparing him as Vax’s limbs go cold and numb. 

“You will sleep a full day, and require rest for nearly a week,” J’mon murmurs, stroking Vax’s hair. “You will obey the clerics, not try sneaking away, or I shall be very disappointed with you. Do you understand?”

Vax nods languidly. 

“This is what you want. It is in my power to make you happy.” J’mon draws a knife. “So that is what I shall do.”

Vax doesn’t feel it, though he knows it must have happened. He feels the coldness of the potion in his mind, making his eyelids heavy. Then … darkness. 

Vax wakes surrounded by far too many pillows, bandaged copiously, and watched over by a cleric. Though he yearns to run, he stays put, remembering J’mon’s words. 

J’mon is busy during Vax’s recovery. Vax worries that, despite their promises, J’mon might grow bored of him. There are concubines who no longer entice J’mon’s interests, who lurk at the corners and live, but no longer thrive. Vax has long been favored by J’mon and frets that his time in J’mon’s favor has come to an end.

When Vax is well enough to stand and remove the bandages, and look at himself in a mirror, he decides that it was worth it. Even if J’mon no longer enjoys his company, he can be content like this. 

J’mon visits as soon as the clerics report that Vax has fully recovered. They practically pounce on Vax, thrumming with excitement and tension. 

“Forgive me. I could not bear to see you in such pain, pain I had caused.” J’mon holds Vax’s face in their hands. “How are you?”

“Wonderful.” Vax smiles, relaxing into J’mon’s embrace. 

Against all of Vax’s fears, J’mon does not tire of him. After some mutual exploration, together they discover new ways for Vax to feel pleasure in bed. 

Vax not only lives, he thrives.


End file.
